Last Victory of the Lost Cause
by Col. William H. Stewart, C.S.A. 

On the night of the 6^th of April, 1865, Mahone’s Division, the rear guard of the Army of Northern Virginia, slept on its arms at High Bridge on the Norfolk and Western Railroad near Farmville, in Virginia. Early on the following morning the unmounted officers and privates crossed over the Appomattox River on this bridge and the mounted officers forded the stream. The close pursuit of the Army of the Potomac prevented the destruction of this great structure; but our soldiers succeeded in burning a barn nearby to prevent the capture of a large quantity of tobacco stored therein. 

After a march of a few hours, our division was halted at Cumberland Church and formed in line of battle across the highway. The right was connected with another line of troops that extended away toward Farmville, and its left, entirely unprotected, rested a few hundred yards in the rear of the church. 

It was my fortune to be assigned to the command of the division picket line, which was barely established before the hostile sharpshooters were seen advancing in front, and the contest began, to continue hotly the live-long day. The men in line of battle had hurriedly thrown up a slight earthwork with bayonets and bare hands, which afforded scant protection from the duel that raged fiercely between pickets. 

The Rockbridge Artillery, Captain Archie Graham, was posted on the line of battle near the public road and rendered valuable service throughout that long day. Robert E. Lee, Jr., son of General Robert E. Lee, our commander-in-chief, was a private in this battery. 

In the afternoon my pickets were forced back by a strong column of troops which made a dashing charge upon our left, with the view of turning our flank. The galling fire from my pickets impeded the charge, and the advance brigade halted for protection in a deep ravine, only a short distance from the flank of our crude earthworks. The pickets were quickly reinforced by a regiment of Georgians from General “Tiger” Anderson’s Brigade, and held the enemy in check until the gallant Anderson, with the remainder of his command, swept around the left of our position, struck the enemy in flank, capturing an entire brigade with its colors. 

This magnificent manoeuvre was directed by dashing Mahone and performed under his eyes, as I can testify. It was the quick conception of one of the greatest military leaders of the war between the sections - of a soldier well worthy of the mantle of Stonewall Jackson. After the brilliant feat of the glorious Georgians, our picket line was soon reestablished, but not without the sacrifice of some brave men. 

Conspicuous for gallantry was a handsome young artilleryman, not out of his teens, who, when not engaged with his cannon, would borrow rifles from infantrymen, stand up, while others were protected by breastworks, and with deliberate aim fire at his man, regardless of the continuous shower of bullets to which he was exposed. Finally he was shot down, desperately wounded, and borne off the field to the residence of Mr. Hogsden, which was made a field hospital. 

Subsequently Adjutant Griffin F. Edwards, a youth of twenty years of our 61^st Virginia Regiment Infantry, while gallantly rallying his men to recover the lost picket line in front of his regiment, was also severely wounded. After dark he was taken to the field hospital. The yard was strewn with the wounded and dead, the kitchen, outhouses, and even the stables were full of bleeding men. There was one vacant place in the parlor of the old mansion where a blanket was spread for Adjutant Edwards. The soldier nearest happened to be the brave artillery boy who had been shot down while acting as a voluntary infantryman, as above stated, and he appeared to be in the chivalrous Edwards ministered all in his power; and as he gave him a drink of water from his canteen, the boy whispered: “My name is Minor.” For three days these wounded sufferers remained without surgeons or nurses. Then the wounded companions were separated and, unknown to each other, until recently, after twenty-nine years, Adjutant Edwards, now a prominent lawyer in Virginia, by accident ascertained that the comrade whom he believed dead is living, in the person of Launcelot Minor, colonel of the 2d Regiment of Infantry, Arkansas State Guards, and a prominent lawyer of Newport, in that state. 

When Private Minor recovered consciousness he found a note pinned to the inside of his shirt, requesting that in case he died someone would give him a decent burial, and a five dollar gold piece was enclosed in the note to pay the expense. He still has the gold coin and wants to know from whom it came. 

The shadows of evening found our weary and starving soldiers in full possession of the battlefield at Cumberland Church and rejoicing over their last victory. The only rations which could be issued on this retreat were a few ears of corn to each soldier, but these men were of that pure metal which yields neither to danger nor hunger. 

Soon after dark the troops were withdrawn from this line of battle, and proceeded on the march to Appomattox, where Mahone returned the silken trophies which were so gallantly won at Cumberland Church to his released prisoners. I was left to cover the retreat with orders to withdraw my pickets from the line at three o’clock a.m. and follow the army. 

The long hours of darkness and anxiety dragged heavily along while the ever watchful pickets experienced the unpleasant anticipations of being killed or captured. On the hour and the minute we quietly withdrew from the field of the last victory of the lost cause. About eight o’clock next morning, the 7^th of April, 1865, we overtook the army, and though desperately tired, rejoiced with a “rebel yell” over our escape from capture, for which we received the congratulations of General Mahone. The following night we built our campfires on the brow of a hill and rested on our arms in line of battle for the last time. Before another sun gained the meridian our arms were stacked and our battleflags furled forever on the hills of Appomattox. 

Launcelot Minor - 1894	Pvt. Launcelot Minor - 1865	Griffin F. Edwards - 1894